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We All Need Therapy
I spend a lot of time in my car these days and most of that time is spent driving to and from therapy. If you've read any of my previous blog posts, you've probably realized that I'm in desperate need of therapy. "What kind?" you may be asking. Well, there's the obvious physical therapy for my hip injury. Then there's the emotional therapy to help work through the day-to-day journey of this thing called life. And finally there's the spiritual therapy that helps to heal the wounds of the past so that I can enjoy my future.
Physical Therapy
Physical therapy is essentially the use of physical methods (rather than medication or surgery) to heal an injury. It's physical rehabilitation. My physical therapist wants to help eliminate my hip pain and he works wholeheartedly to do so. It's a lot of work for both him and I. He has to think of methods that will solve the problem and I have to commit to the process. It takes a lot of time and energy. There is pain and there are tears. We both shake our heads in frustration at times. But we share and believe in a common goal: to restore my body to its pre-injury functionality. Or at least get as close as we can
Emotional Therapy
Emotional therapy means something different to every person. I use emotional therapy to help me work with through present circumstances. It's mostly talk therapy. My therapist listens while I talk. She offers suggestions here and there, but mostly she just provides direction. As I talk and reflect, I usually come up with some sort of resolution or epiphany. We figure out alternatives and action plans, then she holds me accountable to my commitments. We don't seek to eliminate the highs and lows that life brings, but we work together as a team to restore balance in my life.
Spiritual Therapy
Spiritual therapy is not really a common term. In fact, I might have just invented it myself. But I think spiritual therapy is something we're all seeking, whether we know it or not. Physical and emotional therapy are things that enable us to better function in the present and future. Spiritual therapy takes things to a new level; it allows for the healing of our hearts, which frees us from our past. It's the most elusive but the most valuable. My time at Mercy Ministries was a period of intense spiritual therapy for me, but it is something that must remain an important part of my daily routine. Currently, my spiritual therapy includes Bible study, prayer, journaling, and involvement in our local Celebrate Recovery ministry. I surrender my life to Jesus and together we work towards freedom.
...On the Road...
On one of my therapy road trips I got to thinking. There really isn't much difference between the different kinds of therapy that we find ourselves needing throughout our life journey. And I only listed a few. As I reflected on my experience, I came up with some therapy criteria:
Therapy involves more than one person. Whether you need a physical therapist, a "licensed clinical professional counselor," or Jesus...you can't give yourself therapy.
The goal of therapy is restoration. Whether you're seeking physical healing, emotional balance, or healing from a past experience...we're hoping to restore something that we lost along the way.
Therapy requires commitment. You have to carve time out of your life and dedicate it to seeking healing and freedom from past damage. It's going to require time and energy. Make it a priority.
Therapy is something that must be maintained. Keep doing your exercises. Keep talking through your struggles to implement solutions. Keep studying God's Word, praying, and journaling. If we don't actively engage in these therapeutic practices, our healing will not be complete and lasting.
I've gotten to the point that I don't see these road trips as an inconvenience to my everyday life. They enhance my life. My life is better when I am engaging in the therapeutic process. Participating in therapy means that you are an active participant in life itself. You're not sitting on the sidelines; you're playing the game. You're fighting. And that's a good thing.
What is your "go-to" form of therapy? Yoga? Running? Chocolate? A phone date with your BFF?
My Secret Weapons
Several weeks ago I published a post about my Influenster Vitality VoxBox. Influenster is a community of people who test, review, and promote products as they see fit. If you qualify for one of their campaigns, they mail you a box containing the product(s) you will be trying. Thanks to all my friends and followers, I received my first VoxBox rather quickly and it was full of wonderful goodies. Once you receive your box, you are given a task list: write reviews, promote via social media, take pictures, etc. The best way to qualify for future Influenster product campaigns is to complete the tasks and earn more badges.
I've completed 9 out of the 10 tasks required to earn the Vitality VoxBox badge and for awhile I was just going to throw in the towel on the whole "Influenster thing." You see, the last task is to "Share the secret weapon to your #BikiniReadyLifestyle." One of the products in the Vitality VoxBox was a sample of Bikini Ready Energy Gummies. The name is pretty much self-explanatory: the gummies claim to boost metabolism and increase energy to make your body bikini ready.
I've fought hard to walk in recovery from an eating disorder and I know that several of my readers are fighting similar battles. Life and death battles. It seemed irresponsible of me to write a blog post on a product that plays into the struggle of so many men and women. So I wasn't going to do it.
But as I completed more and more tasks, this one task was all that stood between me and my badge (I know this sounds a little bit dramatic, but go with it). So I read the task over again: "Share the secret weapon to your #BikiniReadyLifestyle." As is commonly the case, I was making something simple into something quite complicated. The task wasn't asking me to endorse a product I didn't believe in; it was asking me to share my secret. What a great opportunity to share a piece of my journey with the blogging community in an unexpected way!
To most people, being "bikini ready" usually means being thin and tan. Not to me. To me, being "bikini ready" means being comfortable in my own skin; confident and strong. Plus, the whole tan thing...I don't get it. Everybody knows that if you already have a tan on day one of pool season, you did not get it naturally. I go to the pool to get a tan. If you already have a tan, why are you at the pool? But I digress. Today's mission is to reverse your concept of what "bikini ready" really means with...
My 5 Secret Weapons to a #BikiniReadyLifestyle
Prayer. I believe in the power of prayer. No journey toward self-improvement will be successful without God's intimate involvement in the details of each and every step. Prayer covers a multitude of weapons needed to conquer a battle. Whether your struggle is to gain, lose, or maintain weight, you will not experience victory without the healing power of God. Ephesians 6:10-16 talks about putting on the armor of God. When you're fighting a battle, you're going to need some armor. And God's armor is the best you'll ever find.
Positive Affirmations/Truth Statements. We feed ourselves lies day in and day out. It's habit. "I'm stupid." "I'm ugly." "I can't do anything right." "I'm worthless." NO, NO, NO! It's time we start speaking positive truth into our lives! "I am smart." "I am beautiful." "I am enough." "I am worthy." My personal favorite is this: "I am a daughter of the King." I simply can't say the words without smiling in my soul.
A Support System. We like to pretend that we can do this on our own. We want to be independent and prove ourselves. But the truth is that we're wired to need each other. When we're fighting a battle, we need people who will keep us accountable, yet encourage us when we need it. We need people who believe in us and who are willing to fight with us from time to time.
Balance. At first this number read "A Balanced Diet." But as I started writing, I realized that the real concept that I was trying to communicate was the importance of balance. We need some balance in our lives, people. When our lives are out of balance we start to grasp desperately at things that give us a feeling of control. Food and exercise are 2 of the most common things we latch onto and it can manifest itself in a variety of ways. We should always strive for balance in life, food, exercise, sleep, work, and play.
Vigilance. This is so important, yet frequently overlooked. We tend to celebrate once we've achieved our goals and we should! But the work does not end after the celebration; we need to be vigilant in all we do. We cannot become complacent or content. We must keep a watchful eye out for anything that threatens to steal away our freedom, for the battle is even harder the second or third time we fight it.
So these are the things I focus on in my attempt to feel comfortable in my own skin. I want to be confident and strong, not thin and tan. I don't care so much whether I'm bikini ready, so much as I'm ready. Ready for whatever life brings; the good and the bad, the daunting and the serene, the laughter and the tears.
Dear Lord,
Make me strong, courageous, confident, and ready for all that you have in store for me.
Amen.
What is your secret weapon for a #BikiniReadyLifestyle?
Let's talk real life today, guys. I'm hungry for a conversation!
“Summer Suits You”
For most people, writer's block comes when they can't think of anything to say. I am not most people. I experience writer's block most frequently when I have a lot to say. There are so many ideas. There is so much emotion. The passion is overwhelming. I don't even know where or how to start.
I'm not going to tip-toe around the point of this post because I have a lot to say and I don't want to risk losing your attention: I am taking this semester off from school.
The official term is "taking a hiatus". I like this term; "I'm taking a hiatus" sounds and feels a lot better than "yeah, I decided to drop out." Hey, I'm a writer; words are important to me like that.
My hip injury has plagued me for nearly 10 years now. I first fractured my femur in January of 2005 and I've always told people that not coming home to take care of myself was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made. I didn't want to miss out or lose momentum, so I kept on pushing through and I've been doing it ever since.
As luck would have it, I somehow re-injured my hip last week. It's not going to require surgery, but the recovery process is going to be long. Most of my surgeries have occurred mid-semester. It's easy to push through when you're halfway there, thoroughly invested in your coursework, and have a reliable reputation as a decent student. But I don't have any of that right now. I'm a week in and it feels like it's mile 21 of a marathon. None of my professors know me. And I have the luxury of looking behind at the past for a glimpse of what my future would hold should I decide to push through just one more time.
The truth is I didn't have to withdraw. If you were to look at the history of my injury, you'd probably ask, "Why now? The one time you DON'T need surgery is the one time you DO withdraw? What's up with that?" Good question. I could have done it. I know I could have. But at what cost?
One of my greatest concerns about deciding to withdraw was what people were going to think and say. I felt like I needed a really good reason to do it. I think a lot of us fall into that trap. We think that we should stay in school until we literally can't do it anymore; until we're checked into the hospital for some physical, mental, or emotional diagnoses or threatened within an inch of our lives. Who made up that rule? It's backwards. The whole thing is backwards.
We think we need a really good reason to take a semester off. And we do. But we need to change our definition of what a good reason really is.
Traditionally, it is in my nature to continue pushing through until my life, body, and sanity shatter into a million pieces. That takes awhile to clean up and I'm usually practically useless for the first several months of the process. It's horrible. It's scary. It's messy. But for some reason I believed that it was the only permissible way.
Today, I'm doing things a little bit differently. I'm in tune with my body, my mind, and my environment. I can sense danger and make choices that will protect and preserve me. I let myself look at the broken pieces and pick them up rather than waiting until things shatter into dust.
I've decided to take the semester off because it's what's best for me. I need to let my body heal. I've been at war with my body for nearly a decade now. It drains me of my energy, enthusiasm, patience, and capacity to love. I'm tired of that. My body is pleading with me for care and attention and it's pulled my soul on board as well.
My "free time" will be well spent. I plan on investing in my blog, working on my freelance career, reading fiction and non-fiction books, learning to cook, and dedicating myself wholeheartedly to rehabilitating my hip. I plan on being a mom to my daughter. I plan on filling my lungs with air and breathing again.
The title of this post is "Summer Suits You". I know that summer is nearly over, but the title really has nothing to do with summertime and everything to do with 3 words spoken to me by my marketing professor several months ago. It was a few weeks after graduation and I ran into her in Target. We were chatting for a good 20 minutes when she looked at me and said, "Gosh Brittany, summer suits you." She wasn't talking about my tan or my cute sundress. She was talking about my affect. I laughed at the time, but I was also a little bit sad. I was sad that the difference between the "School Brittany" and the "Summer Brittany" was so drastic. I wanted to spend the summer getting to a place in my mind where I could maintain the summer affect in the midst of a semester at college.
I didn't quite meet the mark on that one, but I've bought myself some extra time. I want to find that place in my mind where summer and winter combine and form something glorious. I know it exists. I know it's possible. And I believe this hiatus is my opportunity to press in rather than push through.
What steps do you take to engage in self-care?
5 Things You Never Want to Hear From Your ER Staff
Last Friday I spent the evening in the emergency room. Always a pleasant experience.
As many of you already know, I recently had my 6th hip surgery. They removed all of my hardware (except that stray screw if you recall) and I've been off of crutches for about 3 weeks. Well last Friday I woke up and started walking around--just like any other day--when suddenly I found myself doubled over in pain. Every step that I took literally took my breath away.
The first thought that came to mind was: "I have never felt anything like this before."
One problem: I have. Twice actually. Both times the pain was determined to be the result of a stress fracture. Both times the result was life-changing. Needless to say, this kind of pain stirs a fear within me. Apparently it also stirred a fear in my physical therapist, my physical therapist assistant, and my orthopedic surgeon. By the end of the day, all 3 sent me straight to the ER for testing.
The ER is not a happy place to be. No one wants to be there and anyone who is there is either sick or injured. Basically, everyone in the ER usually has an excellent reason to be miserable, so they are. Plus--even though I know it's not true--it usually feels like the ER staff does everything they can to extend the length of your misery.
We left the house at 5:00 pm and got home around 1:30 Saturday morning. By the time I got discharged, I had come up with a new list of the...
5 Things You Never Want to Hear From Your ER Staff
"Just Google it." Seriously. The PA told me that she can never remember where potassium comes from; she usually has to Google it. From that moment forward I had complete confidence in her medical competence.
"I'm here to take you for your CT scan." This one might seem innocent at first, except...I'd already been taken for a CT scan. And the fact that this happened twice? Totally reassuring.
"You should have just called you doctor." I did. He sent me to you. I know, what was he thinking?!?!
"Remember to hop when you use your crutches." This goes against EVERY lesson on using crutches known to man. You NEVER hop. Even when you're non-weightbearing, you are still supposed to go through the stepping motion. Hopping while using crutches is a beginner's error and can further complicate any injury. This is the worst advice ever.
"Just try not to fall." Oh. My. Gosh. First of all, I can't even begin to count the number of time I've been told this one. Second of all...really, who actually TRIES to fall. The statement "try not to fall" implies that, for some reason, I was previously trying TO fall. What a pointless, insulting statement that makes me want to trip you with my crutch so that, when you get up, I can tell you, "Oh, please, just try not to fall again, ok?"
I'm not a heartless person. I know that pain and illness makes people irritable and impatient. My mom was an ER nurse for years, so I appreciate the drama that the ER staff endures on a nightly basis. My CT scan and ultrasound came back clean; no stress fracture and no blood clot. I'm really no worse for the wear. But seriously..."just Google it"?!?!
What is the strangest thing that has ever been said to you by a medical professional?
Few But Faithful
This one's for the few but faithful folks that visit my blog and wait expectantly for posts and tweets. The last week or so has been rather crazy. And from what I hear, I don't seem to be in the minority when making that statement. It was the first week of school for most people, which naturally carries with it an unusually high level of stress. But this post isn't going to be about ways to manage stress or cope with crazy (although those are topics on my blog post "to-do" list). This one's going to be a little more personal. It might not be one that reaches a broader audience, but it's something insightful nonetheless and my hope is that you might be able to see a piece of yourself in my story.
I've been going through a rough patch. Some people like to debate whether or not "overwhelmed" is a feeling. I say it is. It's one that can practically smother you if you're not careful. The thing that makes feeling overwhelmed so dangerous is that it's not always foreshadowed with gloom and doom. Your life can be filled with excitement, joy, anticipation, goals, and prospects. Couple these healthy stressors with a few negative relationships or burdensome commitments, however, and you'll soon find yourself knee-deep in trouble.
I have a lot going for me: I'm establishing an online presence, I have a steady and well-paying job, I'm starting at a "real" university, I've started on some freelance work, and I finally feel like I have a vision for the future.
That's a lot on my plate. I work 18 hours a week at one college and travel to another university for my 15 credits worth of classes four days a week. I'm also raising a 4 year-old daughter, serving on the Celebrate Recovery leadership team at my church, and going to physical therapy multiple times per week. I'm running a blog, promoting myself through social media, and writing freelance articles too. All while trying to maintain my sanity. It's a lot.
I tend to downplay it: "Other people do all of this and more. Why can't I do it?"
The answer? I can.
I've been told it multiple times; usually by the people I swore would be the most unlikely to utter the words. Never in my wildest dreams did I picture the people who saw me in my darkest moments to tell me, "No Brittany. You've lost your right to say you can't. You've done the impossible. After everything you've survived, this will certainly not be the end of you. You are a miracle."
We never ask for hardship, desperation, or the feeling of being utterly overwhelmed by what life has brought upon us. But it's usually in these moments that I'm most able to witness and experience an outpouring of love. You'd think after all this time I would realize this fact and come to expect it, yet it still sweeps me off my feet. The way God uses hardship to draw us into relationship with both Him and others while refining us, making us stronger, and revealing our inherent worth as human beings continually astounds me.
The people who saw me at my worst refuse to let me be anything less than my best. Those who have believed in me through it all still encourage me through my doubts. And there are always new people joining me on my journey; bringing hope and meaning to my life, always telling me that I've done the same for them.
I know that I can do it. What it really comes down to is how I do it. That's a choice I get to make. This period of my life is stressful, yet it's full of potential. I get to decide whether or not I make it glorious. So I think I'll knock my course load down to 12 credits instead of 15. I'll take a few steps to manage my temperance. I'll eat.
To most people these decisions come naturally; they're common sense. You might not understand it, but for me it's more difficult. They're things I have to mull over and do with great intention.
Some days we feel like we don't really have a choice in the matter; all we feel is utter exhaustion. On other days we're filled with frantic excitement. But, while life is full of ups and downs, most of our days are spent in the middle and it's on those days that we get to make a choice. We get to decide which side of the spectrum will shape and define our thoughts and actions. It's that daily decision that colors and flavors our lives for years to come.
What daily decision is most difficult for you?
The Messages Worth Saving
I was out to lunch with a friend recently and we were having a great conversation. We were laughing and talking about both the healthy and toxic relationships in our lives. At some point, she looked at me and said, "You know, I really need to clean out the text messages on my phone. I'd hate so-and-so to find them."
One moment. Everything changed.
Think about it for a minute. What if you forgot to lock your phone and someone picked it up. Is there something you would be ashamed of? Is there something you would fear? Is the thought of such a scenario enough to make you anxious, suspicious, or afraid?
I know I'm taking a chance in saying this, but I'm thinking the answer is yes. I'm not talking songs with explicit lyrics or dirty pictures on your photo stream. I'm talking about words. And not even the "naughty" ones.
You know that one time you were sitting in a room with someone and they were aggravating you so much and the only way you had of expressing your frustration was to text your best friend? They texted back some smart aleck remark that undoubtedly made you crack up and took the edge off your aggravation. You felt better and there was no harm done.
Well what if that person picked up your phone and saw the text the next day. Was the temporary relief of your frustration worth the hurt of such a revelation? You've been caught red-handed and the price might be a friendship. We don't think about what we're sacrificing when we hit send.
We all know what gossip is and what it does and that it hurts. Mostly because, at some point in our lives, we've been gossiped about. We've heard about it through the grapevine or caught our bff betraying us in the hallway between classes. I've been both the instigator and the victim of some fierce gossip. It's painful. It's shameful. And I think that most of us avoid it these days. At least we think we do. But gossip manifests itself in many ways. And today I think it often rears its ugly head in the form of a text.
My first instinct is to do the obvious thing and lock my phone. But lets face it. The people I'm afraid of finding these gossip texts are actually some of the people who know my password. Or would be able to figure it out. Which makes it even worse, if you think about it. What a betrayal.
My second thought is to delete my text history with certain people and erase the evidence. Which isn't a bad idea, honestly. My motive isn't to eradicate my guilt; my actions are there whether or not the texts are accessible. My motive is to keep my loved one from experiencing hurt. So I really don't see anything wrong with deleting the history.
But.
The question is what comes next. What happens after the evidence is erased and I have my fresh start? Personally, I like to keep my text history to refer back to from time to time. I like to create memories that are worth saving. Not erasing. So I make a choice and a commitment. To myself and my friendships.
I commit to sending only messages worth saving. Anything I'll want to delete shouldn't be said in the first place. Why risk the hurt, the damage, and the loss that could result from careless gossip.
It's a lesson we don't seem to learn easily. We learned it in kindergarten and again in high school. It reared it's ugly head in the break room at work and again during the kids' soccer practice. I don't care what the old rhyme says about stick and stones. Words hurt. I can't even count the number of times that I've been hurt by words. I'd like to prevent myself from doing that same damage to others.
In what ways have you seen gossip manifest itself in the adult world? What actions do you take to eliminate the effects of gossip in your life?
From the Corner of the Service Center Lobby
I hate getting my oil changed. I hate it. My routine maintenance is even free...and I STILL hate it. Yet here I sit in the corner of the service center lobby. Waiting. Nationwide advertises "free manicures while you wait!" I'm not so sure that's a good idea. I don't know, it just sounds sketchy to me.
Usually this time feels like it's dragging on and on, but today the time ticks away quickly. Almost too quickly. This is the only time I've had to "rest" recently. My schedule hasn't necessarily been booked, but I've kept busy. Since I never know how long the mystery car maintenance is going to take, I don't really make any plans for myself to occupy the time. I just let it happen.
Last weekend was my beautiful car's 1st birthday! I named my car Jasper, which means "keeper of treasure". My old car wasn't the safest vehicle anymore, so I purchased Jasper so my daughter and I could be safe. Skylar is my little treasure, so naturally Jasper is my treasure keeper :)
While reflecting on the last 12 months spent with Jasper, I have come up with a list of the
5 Things I Have Learned Through Car Ownership
Always remove your valuables from your car before leaving it for an oil change. I know you probably grab your GPS and Ray-Bans, but have you ever thought about your phone charger? Seriously. I've had my USB cord stolen from my car before. I have never been so bitter about shelling out 20 bucks than when I had to replace my cable. Turns out my "free" oil change wasn't really free.
You can't always protect your car from accidents. Someone will nick you in the parking lot or the zipper from your backpack will scratch the paint. If you use your car, it will show signs of wear. Like the scar from a childhood fall, the dings and dents are small reminders of the journey we're on.
You will spill something. Unless you have a no food or drink policy, you (...or your kids...or your friend who brings a french dip sandwich in the car...) will drop or spill something on the factory fresh fabric that lines your vehicle. It will be sad. You may cry. But you have to decide: Would you rather live by a bunch of rigid rules or let things get a little messy along the way?
A car is like a second home. If push came to shove, I think I could actually live in my car. I have rain boots, crutches, snacks, a blanket, water, clothes, an umbrella, a swim suit, stuffed animals, hair clips, and I'm sure a few other "surprises" tucked in between the cushions. Hey, you never know what's going to happen.
Your car is a boombox on wheels. I live in a house with my parents and 4-year-old daughter. My car is MY space. I love to drive. I get in the car and crank up my worship music and sing at the top of my lungs. I can't do that in my room. Jasper and I have a special relationship.
I think I enjoy my car more than most people do. My old vehicle was all that remained of a painful life I'd left behind. Trading it in for Jasper felt like freedom. While I'm not thrilled with the monthly payments, I'm reminded of how blessed I am that I can make them. My family is safe and I have something to call my own; something reliable to carry me through my current life journey. You can't put a price tag on that.
What is the strangest thing you have in your car right now?
LIVE! from Summit Day 2
As promised, I'm typing live from the Global Leadership Summit LifePoint Church satellite location (well it's as close to live as you're going to get from me at least). It's lunchtime and I managed to sneak away for a few minutes to bring you a few insights from this morning's sessions.
It's really difficult to put an experience like this into words. These speakers have the ability to stir up something within me. Something great; too great to be described by the simplicity of the English language. Which kind of brings me to the subject of this afternoon's post.
Bill Hybels hosted a session with 3 incredible leaders and they each left a mark on my soul. Essentially, they were discussing the integration of faith in the workplace and how they have made doing so a reality in their own lives and businesses. It was inspiring to listen to. Truly.
Following their talks, Bill Hybels came back to the stage and explained the purpose of the session once: The Grander Vision. He (once again) explained what's been on my heart. He said something along the lines of, "Many people ask, 'Is this all there is? Is this all I am? Will my life ever be used for a higher purpose?'"
Wow. I mean, I don't know about you, but those questions have run through my mind more than once. It's what I've frequently explained as restlessness. Dissatisfaction. A deep yearning for "more" with an underlying certainty that "more" exists.
I know that restlessness has been placed in my heart for a reason. I know that God refuses to allow me to be satisfied until I come into sync with His purpose for my life. And I'm grateful. I really am. My heart is overflowing with gratitude because I truly have no desire to settle for less.
It sounds so simple. My gut instinct is to say "Of course; I know that." But if I truly know it, then I have the responsibility to act on it. As Bill put it, my role is to serve people joyfully and without discrimination. That is where I will find satisfaction on this side of eternity.
What came next is something that needs to happen more often in our lives. We sat back in silence and asked God to speak to us; to reveal something to us that was not of ourselves. To give us a piece of His vision for our lives. And can I be honest? I was a little bit distracted.
I was suddenly overwhelmed. At first I was like "How can God answer this question individually for each of the thousands of people offering up this prayer in one moment?" I know He's God and I know it's not really an issue for Him. But still the thought crossed my mind. Then--suddenly--I stopped.
What if He was waiting? What if He has been preparing for this moment. What if He is so proud of Bill Hybels for creating an environment where thousands of people drop everything they are doing to pause and turn to Him and plead with Him for direction, purpose, vision, and true satisfaction with the sole desire of aligning themselves with His will for their lives?
I am overwhelmed right now. I can see God rubbing His hands together in eager anticipation. Tears streaming down His face when He hears our quiet cry for guidance and feels our hands stretch out to Him. It's beautiful.
So what about you? I know I won't get many comments on this one, but I'd still like to challenge you to answer this question for yourself:
Are you bankrupt in satisfaction?
“See You At The Summit”
My brain seriously feels like it's going to explode. But that would be really messy and let's be honest: Ain't nobody got time for that. I'm overwhelmed. It's Summit week across the nation and I'm kind of sad that a lot of you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. The Global Leadership Summit is a massive conference executed by the Willow Creek Association. It is held at Willow Creek Community Church in Illinois and there are over 300 satellite locations streaming the conference live today and tomorrow. It is PACKED full of awesomeness.
Last year was my first GLS and it seriously changed my life. That is not an exaggeration. It is truth. 100% absolute truth. Speaker after speaker gets up on that stage and they each blow my mind and ignite a fire of passion in my soul. Sometimes I'm laughing and sometimes there are tears streaming down my face. But I'm always overwhelmed by possibility and this deep yearning to live my life intentionally. Every single moment of it.
At the end of last year's summit, I promised myself that I would go again this year. In May I checked with my boss to see if I could get that Friday off (Thursdays are already my "official day off") and she said of course. But then life happened. We took a spontaneous vacation in June and I had surgery in July. I had taken so much time off of work this summer that I didn't even want to ask to have August 15th off too. The ministry team I work with at my church said that I could go for just Thursday, which was awesome. I was so excited. But I knew myself. I knew if I went on Thursday, it would nearly kill me to miss out on Day 2 of the summit. So I sucked it up and asked my boss for one more Friday off. She said yes.
All of this happened less than a week ago and it has been a whirlwind of a week. I haven't really had a chance to prepare my mind and heart for the GLS this year. The anticipation wasn't built up like it was last year. But the excitement...oh. my. gosh. You have no idea. Last night I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. I knew how much the summit impacted me last year and I was ready. I was expectant.
I am raw right now; it took me quite some time to even dial myself down enough to sit and think. I do my best reflecting when I'm writing, so I'm going to give you a quick recap of...
Top 5 Things That Have Impacted Me During Day 1 of the Global Leadership Summit:
Bill Hybels talked a lot about vision and the importance of making a "Legacy Play." Um, can we back track to my blog post 2 months ago when I talked about developing a vision and my desire to leave a legacy? God didn't miss a BEAT and spoke straight to my heart first thing this morning. Bill talked about how, when we leave this world, a gravestone is what represents our lives: 2 dates with a dash in-between (he's never seen a U-Haul in a graveyard). He asked a simple yet challenging question:
“What will you do with your dash?”
Carly Fiorina boldly proclaimed that human potential is the only limitless resource in the entire world. She explained that the role of a leader is to build a framework consisting of vision, organization, metrics, and culture.
“Set the frame, then set your people free.”
Jeffrey Immelt is the President and CEO of General Electric and he had lots of insightful points to offer during his interview with Bill Hybels. He talked about how it's not your supervisor or the people you manage who determine where you go; it's your peers. Your supervisor has to "like" you because he hired you and your employees have to "like" you because you're their boss. But you have to earn the trust and respect of your peers.
“Horizontal strength is what keeps organizations together.”
Susan Cain spoke on challenging the extrovert ideal by revealing the power of introverts. Her talk spoke to me in a unique way. She wasn't exactly an especially eloquent speaker, but she knew she had something important to say and she knew that she was the best person to say it. So she did. Our culture values extroversion and equates it with "good leadership." She challenged us to see the strengths in both extroverts and introverts and to create an environment and culture that caters to the needs of each. Group work has its place, but solitude can lead to equal (if not greater) degrees of success.
“May you have the courage to speak softly.”
Patrick Lencioni was tied for my favorite speaker last year and he made an even more impressive appearance today (the GLS faculty changes every year but they keep asking Patrick back...he must be doing something right). He talked about the most dangerous mistakes that leaders make and he did so with humor that only he could pull off respectfully. One of the mistakes he spoke about was becoming a leader for the wrong reason. The right reason for becoming a leader is the desire to sacrifice yourself for the good of others, even when you know there won't be a return on investment. He said he's tired of hearing about servant leadership.
“Servant leadership is the only kind of leadership. Otherwise it’s just economics”
I know it probably doesn't sound or look like it, but these are just a few tiny snips of what one day of the GLS contains; the nuts and bolts of some very compelling and thought-provoking topics. This won't be the last you hear of the summit from me. I was hoping to do a "live blog feed" during the lunch break today, but maybe I'll be able to pull it off tomorrow. Regardless, I can pretty much guarantee you that I will do a more in-depth post about one or more of the speakers over the next few weeks. There's so much good information and it needs to be processed and shared. Attending the GLS won't make you a better leader; intentionally applying what you learn will.
My question for you today is the same question Bill Hybels asked me at 10:00 this morning:
What will you do with your dash?
“Oh, Ryeli!”
Sometimes I'm just going about my normal day and I'm suddenly knocked off my feet by a seemingly obvious revelation. It's usually one of those things I know that I know, yet I instantaneously find myself looking at it with a fresh perspective. It's startling and it usually makes me laugh at first. Then I pause and realize that there's truth in the humor; I step back and try to find a place for this new revelation in my current reality.
For those of you who don't know me or regularly follow this blog, you should know 2 things:
We have a 6 month old puppy. Her name is Ryeli. My very good friend has a teenage daughter named Rielly. My 4 year old daughter adores Rielly and therefore wanted to name our new puppy after her. I felt bad naming our dog after a very sweet human and my dad loves rye bread, so I decided we would spell our puppy's name Ryeli to avoid any confusion. I know, I know, you wish you had thought of this yourself.
I am recovering from hip surgery number 6. I had a fairly large hunk of metal removed from my femur a few weeks ago and am still pretty "fragile" until the bone fills in and heals. Existing in the same space as a highly energetic 4-year-old human and an 6-month-old puppy who has yet to become aware of her own strength has proven to be a challenge. The 4-year-old gets the crutches and understands "Be careful around Mommy so that she doesn't fall" (most of the time). The puppy, on the other hand, isn't quite as forgiving. I've pretty much had to separate myself from her during my recovery.
So now on to my newest revelation. I love Ryeli a lot, so it really makes me sad that I can't get too close to her during my recovery. I think she misses me too; when she sees me she starts wagging her tail really hard and her eyes practically beg me to walk over and say hi.
But she's a puppy and we're still in the housebreaking phase of things. So when she gets excited, she pees. Everywhere. It wasn't a big deal before my surgery; I just cleaned it up if she got too excited upon seeing me. But things are a little different now. If I decide to give in to her puppy eyes (literally) and hobble over to the gate, someone else has to clean up the inevitable mess.
In short, my actions have consequences that affect other people. My decision to gratify my own desires (i.e. to pet my precious pup) results in rather unpleasant consequences for the people I love (i.e. mom cleaning up the mess).
It sounds so simple, but it stopped me in my tracks that day. We're usually aware of the fact that our choices affect others, but I think we tend to apply this awareness mostly towards the "big stuff." You know, the place we live, the kids we have, the jobs we take. The big stuff.
But it's important to remember that even our smallest decisions have the potential to affect the course of someone else's day. And that's not a bad thing. It makes me appreciate my mom more when she says it's ok for me to go pet Ryeli; that she's prepared to clean up the mess.
When Ryeli has an accident inside the house, one of us usually sighs in exasperation and cries, "Oh, Ryeli!" Like we're surprised. Really? I think we should be more surprised when she doesn't have an accident. She occasionally switches things around, though. She causes me say to myself, "Oh, Brittany!" I shake my head and sigh, then thank her for giving me a glimpse inside myself.
What life lessons has your pet taught you?
5 Tips for Buying Textbooks
I can't believe it's August already! It seems like just yesterday that I was walking across the stage on graduation day. But alas, I've received my first email from Stevenson University informing me that I have to complete an online tutorial class before I can take my actual online class that begins on August 25th.
Let me indulge myself and go on a mini-rant. First of all, the "actual" online class that I'm taking at SU this fall is an Advanced Microsoft Office course. Please note that this class covers the material that I practically teach and grade as an instructional technician at the community college. The fact that I have to take this class is kind of silly, but SU uses a slightly different textbook and it will hopefully be 3 "easy credits."
Anyway, as annoying as it is, I do like the fact that you have to take a tutorial class before being eligible for online courses at SU. The tutorial covers all of the basics of online learning, shows you how to access your courses, outlines general expectations, and basically eliminates any excuses that a student might try to use while enrolled in an online class. As a TA, I'm really impressed. I hope my community college considers a similar protocol in the future.
As part of the tutorial, I learned how to access the university bookstore and figure out what textbooks my courses require. The nerd in me was pretty excited. I started jotting down textbooks and prices and by the time I finished, my jaw dropped: $880 for one semester's worth of textbooks. Yikes.
Luckily the textbook price tag doesn't get me too worked up anymore. It's figured into my budget and my financial aid package. I also have a system for deciding where and how to get my hands on each textbook. I realize that this has come from a lot of research and that this time of year is stressful for a lot of people, so I've decided to make it the topic of today's Five for Friday post!
5 Things To Do When Faced With Buying College Textbooks:
Visit your university bookstore. This can usually be done online and I recommend using this option (you don't have bookstore staff breathing down your neck and pressuring you to BUY NOW). You type in the course code and it will list the required textbook(s). Write down the title, author, edition, and ISBN. Then write down the price for new and used versions, as well as availability.
Some classes will have textbooks, workbooks, or software that is exclusive to your university. Pay close attention because you'll want to purchase these materials directly from the university bookstore!
Go on Amazon. Type in the ISBN for each textbook.
Write down the cost of new and used versions of your textbooks.
Amazon also offers some textbooks for rental. Write down this price as well.
Some books are available as Kindle ebooks (and some you can even rent as Kindle ebooks). Write down these prices too!
If you have an iPad, log into the iBooks store. The iBooks store doesn't have as large of a selection of textbooks, but it is growing at a steady pace and they do offer some books that aren't available as a Kindle edition. Type in the ISBN. Write down the price.
Keep in mind that you can also open PDF documents in iBooks for easy reading!
Visit a few textbook sell-back websites (ValoreBoks, TextbookRush, SellBackYourBook, etc). Type in the ISBN. Write down how much money you would get if you were to sell the textbook back at the end of the semester. But remember, these prices can change drastically over the next 4 months (especially if a new edition of the book is released).
There is a handy app called BookScouter that you can download to your phone. You can either scan the book barcode or type in an ISBN number. The app will search the top textbook resellers and tell you exactly how much each site is paying for the book. Most of these sites offer free shipping, too. So it's almost hassle free!
Weigh the pros and cons. Everyone is different (and so is every book, class, and professor for that matter).
New v. Used: I used to hate the idea of a used book, but the price difference is huge. As long as it's readable and not too marked up, I'm definitely willing to purchase a used book at this point in my college career.
Purchase v. Rent: I also used to hate the idea of renting a textbook. I like to highlight and write in my books. But they make highlighters with ink that vanishes after time and post-it notes are a wonderful invention as well. If you rent an ebook, you can use the highlighting and note taking tool as much as you want! However, if the book is one you know you will want to use in the future, by all means purchase!
Print v. eBook: I'm a bookworm, so I will always have a special place in my heart for books in print. I also firmly believe that there are certain classes that warrant having a physical book. But I nearly always prefer the etext version of books for college courses. Those suckers are big and heavy. I take my iPad mini with me everywhere. It even fits in my purse. I'm much more likely to read a few pages of my textbook while sitting in the waiting room, in between classes, or before meeting a friend for coffee when it's loaded onto my iPad. I also love the search feature. No more skimming the book for that elusive term; just type it in the search box and go. Plus it saves my back a lot of pain, which automatically reduces the stress in my life. Don't be fooled, though. Ebooks aren't necessarily much cheaper than print; the authors and publishers still need to get paid for their work/services. They're usually cheaper than a new book but more expensive than a used one. To me, it's usually worth it anyway.
If the text is available for rent as an ebook, I will ALWAYS go this way (unless prohibited by the school or professor). It's usually the cheapest, lightest, and most sensible way to go. Amazon will even offer you a discounted price towards the end of your rental to permanently purchase the book if you decide it's something you want to hang on to.
So what about you? What tips do you have when it comes to buying college textbooks?
Five on Friday
Well today marks one week from my hip surgery and I think that justifies having two Five on Friday lists. I guess that's technically Ten on Friday. But it's 2 separate lists, so I think it still counts.
List 1: Can we just take a minute to acknowledge all of the relationships I've been blessed with through this process?
My parents. They have waited on me hand and foot. They bring me food, water, coffee, and ice-cream. They make sure my electronics are charged. They remind me to take my pain killers and use an icepack. They help me close my recliner and put on my shoes. My mom even makes sure I don't slip and fall while getting into the shower. Their constant presence may drive me crazy at moments, but if that's not unconditional love, I don't know what is. Thanks, Mom and Dad!
My daughter. She has been really gentle and for a 4-year-old kid full of energy, that is saying a lot. She also asks me if I want my crutches every time she sees me sitting down. Seriously. Every time. She's precious and makes me smile and a hug from her makes everything ok. Thanks, Skylar!
My sister, her fiancé, and all my random friends. They texted me and made me laugh. They wanted to visit even though they couldn't. They always make me feel special and important. Thanks, Katie, Matt, Bekah, Lori, Sarah, and all!
My CR (Celebrate Recovery) family. They prayed for me the night before my surgery during large group. They texted me at 6 am the day of my surgery to encourage me. They supported me in preparing for my teaching. They gave me hugs and a refuge; a place to go besides my house this week. They let me teach from a stool and read from my script. They accept me as I am while encouraging me to become more. Thanks, Jim, Mark, Jenny, Christine, Andrea, George, Glenn, and crew!
My employer. As a part-time employee at the college, I don't get vacation or sick time. My boss told me to take as much time as I needed to recover and my co-worker agreed to pick up the slack (even though I had already taken time off for a vacation this summer). I like to think that my excellent work ethic makes them more willing to do this, but I know that I am far from entitled to their kindness. I am so grateful for this job; I love the people and I love the environment. It's been almost a year since I interviewed and lost the opportunity, then found it lying in my lap a month later. God is so good! Thanks, CCC, Margo, and Pat!
List 2: How should you spend your week off of work while recovering from hip surgery?
Blogging. This doesn't mean writing blog entries non-stop. It means learning the art of blogging. There's a lot of reading blogs about blogging involved, if you know what I mean. Learning what a Blog Hop is and bookmarking the best ones. Exploring other blogs, then editing your own to reflect the best and worst of what you found. Figuring out what blogging networks you want to join and taking steps in that direction. Spending more time on other people's blogs than you do on your own.
Social Media. This doesn't mean Facebook stalking (although there's been a bit of that, too). It means intentionally finding people to follow. Learning that COMMENTS ARE KING. Don't just like or follow. Communicate. Familiarize yourself with Twitter etiquette (Yes, there is such a thing. It's a serious business.). This week I think I started out with 10 followers on Twitter. I'm now 12 away from 400! Yes, this meant spending a fair amount of time on Twitter, but doing so let me learn a few tricks along the way so that I won't have to spend quite so much time there in the future. Make friends, follow people who know more than you do, open their links, learn something, and then act on it!
House, MD. Or whatever TV series you happen to be addicted to on Netflix. But be careful. This is dangerous stuff, guys. If it gets too bad, you can come talk about it at CR on Thursday nights :)
Movies that no one else will watch. I know you have a pile of movies that you love to watch but never do because no one else you know will watch them with you. Well here's your chance. While everyone else is at work or playing, you get to wipe the dust off the discs and go to your happy place.
Paint your nails. Basically, this is your chance to take care of YOU. So paint your nails, take a nap, or look up new hairstyles on Pinterest. And don't feel guilty about it. Maybe this was God's way of telling you to take a break and regroup. So do it.
I think some people feel sorry for me. "Gosh, Brittany. Another hip surgery? That's gotta be rough." And it is rough at times. I hate being dependent on other people, but then I remember how blessed I am to have people I can depend on. I also view it is an opportunity. I had a whole week to check things off my to-do list. I kind of view it as a vacation in itself; a good excuse to do nothing but the things I want to do. The things I rarely take time to do for myself on a regular basis. So it's not all bad. I'm sort of sad to see it end. Sort of.
If you had a week off of work while recovering from surgery, what would YOU do?
The Perfect Surgery
My surgeon and I have 2 very different definitions of the word perfect.
To me, the perfect hardware removal surgery would mean...I don't know...that all the hardware would be removed. But maybe that's just the crazy talking. Maybe I've had a few too many pain pills. Because my orthopedist tells me, "The surgery went perfectly, Brittany!" Yet he's standing there telling me that the head of one of the screws broke off while he was trying to remove it. So he left it in there. To me, perfect doesn't include broken screws.
I hate the word perfect because you might as well say impossible. Earthly perfection is purely objective. There is no right answer. My definition of perfect is different from yours. We place varying degrees of value on portions of the equation. Your perfect is not my perfect so no one is ever authentically happy. It took me awhile to realize this. I spent most of my youth pursuing this ever-elusive so-called perfect.
I'm sorry, but the only thing that's perfect is God's love. End of story.
So I guess it doesn't matter what my orthopedist's definition of perfect is because no one's perfect is every going to measure up to my definition. My version of the perfect surgery would have erased the past. I mean, that's what I was looking for, wasn't it? I wanted all evidence of my medical history removed. I wanted a clean slate. I expected the scars on my leg to be the only trace of the 6 surgeries and countless years that have gone into rehabilitating my hip. I demanded the impossible, and that's not all that fair, now is it?
But still. Dude. Seriously. It was hard enough explaining why a person my age had the hardcore hip hardware that I flaunted when undergoing medical diagnostics. But at least that could be explained. I now have what looks like a stray screw floating inside the middle of my femur. 6 surgeries. Countless scars. 1 stray screw. No rational explanation.
Please, people, help me out. This is dying for a good story. "I got in a fight with a nail gun." "My brother thought I was a two-by-four." "It was a dare."
I want to hear the best story you have to explain away this mystery in an entertaining yet mildly believable tale.
“In My Opinion…”
I'm not just a blogger; I'm a writer. Which means I also keep a journal. I traditionally use my journal to document and evaluate my day. It helps me process things. I remember the things that I'm grateful for and I reflect on the things I could have handled better. I offer a prayer of gratitude and ask God to work in my heart to heal the flaws in my character.
Sometimes my journaling leads to a deeper revelation, though. My last blog entry was on a Tuesday and it took me an exceptionally long time to compose. Not only did it take me days to sit down and write, but it also took me hours once I finally mustered up the determination to do so. While writing in my journal Tuesday night (after completing my blog entry "restless" earlier in the afternoon), I began to understand the source of my so-called writer's block.
“I’ve been wanting to write a blog entry but I haven’t known where to start. I mean I have a whole list of topics. But none of them have called to me. I get to caught up in opinions. And not in the way you might think.
I’m not ashamed of my opinions, but I’m frustrated with what opinions have come to mean. Opinions aren’t meant to be absolute. An opinion is a starting place. At least that’s what an opinion is supposed to be. But society has turned opinion into an absolute truth. There’s no room for dialogue. No conversation. No chance to change your mind without being a coward. Without being accused of being wrong. ’Hey, I never said I was right, so how can I be wrong?’ What’s the point of even having an opinion anymore?
I have opinions, but I frequently don’t broadcast them to the world or even to my close friends. I’d rather listen. I feel like once I state my opinion everything becomes an argument. I want to learn. I want to observe and reflect. I want the opportunity to weave your points into my own perception. To broaden my experience and view the issue in a new way. To change without being considered a coward. And once I’ve stated my opinion, that opportunity is lost.
The culture of attacking cynicism has nearly paralyzed me at times (in my writing, that is). People comment with their “opinion” but seek only an argument. It’s not that I fear confrontation. And obviously I love a good discussion in which I learn and grow. I am fascinated by all sides of an issue. I see the strengths and weaknesses, and my psyche molds with each new fact and point of view.
But it is discouraging when my efforts are not matched. When my opinion doesn’t resemble yours and is therefore wrong. I usually don’t respond to such comments. And it makes me sad because I know that I’m missing out on a fresh understanding—one that is totally unique to me—a compilation of every experience and personality I’ve encountered. But I can tell the difference between a conversational comment and one that is attacking. It’s exhausting.
I’m not ashamed of my opinion, but I am embarrassed by my ignorance. And I think that’s a good thing. It lets me listen instead of talk. It keeps me open. I just can’t let it silence me.”
I have read over this journal entry every night since writing it. I've thought about turning it into a blog entry, but I've hesitated. I didn't want people not to comment on entries because they thought I don't want to hear their opinions. But please, read my journal entry again and try to tell me that I don't want to hear your opinion. I love hearing your opinions. I just don't want you to be surprised if I fail to argue or respond in the way you have come to expect. There are plenty of people who would love to engage in an argument if that's what you're looking for. And I encourage you to do so; there's nothing wrong with a good argument from time to time. But as for me, I'm looking to listen.
Restless
I know that I haven't exactly been the most reliable blogger as of late. And I don't have a good excuse; I've had plenty of time, plenty of material, and plenty of thoughts. I have so many ideas. So many beliefs. So many dreams.
Dreams. I never thought I'd say that one again. I was going through my journal when I ran across something I had written not too long ago...
“Sometimes I worry that I’ll never be encouraged to pursue greatness or chase the impossible again for fear of what I might loose.”
I'm going to be a bit vulnerable and let you in on a little secret. I think we all have something that we plead with God for. Some people plead for time, for love, for money, for healing. Don't get me wrong; I've been known to plead for such things as well. But I don't remember ever pleading with God for something so intentionally before...with my whole heart.
So what is my plea, exactly?
Vision that leaves a legacy.
That has been my desperate, heart-felt plea. I'd even go so far as to say that I've begged for it.
I've never begged for a vision before; I've always created my own. I've spent my life building dreams upon dreams. Every action I took was rooted in the pursuit of some goal. It gave me a purpose. It gave life meaning. It made me confident and driven and successful. It also destroyed me. It eventually left me dreamless. My purpose faded. I felt empty.
I won't get into the story of how this void eventually became a blessing in my life (that's for another time). But it's important for you to understand that it did. The void was filled by Jesus.
I know that he is more than enough, yet I've still felt restless. It wasn't that I was just "going through the motions." I've been present and intentional in all that I've done, but it's been without a goal. There has been no dream, no purpose, no motive. Without realizing it, I believe I've been waiting. It hasn't been pretty or patient. There's been some complaining, whining, and crying involved. But hey, for a person inexperienced in the art of waiting, even the restless kind is quite an accomplishment.
I believe in God and miracles and the power of prayer. I do. But I'm still amazed when God answers my prayers with a word. He has given me a vision. He has planted a seed in my heart. And it is precious to me. So precious.
By now, you're probably wondering what it is. What is this vision that God has given me? Well, to be honest, I'm still not 100% sure. It comes in pieces. God gives me just enough, then tells me to wait. Here's the best part, though. He tells me to wait restlessly.
It turns out that God loves the way that I wait. He created me that way. He loves that I soak in the present, yet yearn for more. He loves my genuine gratitude for the healing and transformation that I have received, and he loves that I refuse to accept it as enough. He loves my search for purpose, my desire for legacy.
I think we're taught that if we're not content, we're discontent; if we're not satisfied, we're dissatisfied. I beg to differ. The world is not black and white. I'm tired of the lines; the call to take a stand in a world that is way more than 50 shades of grey.
So go ahead. Be restless. Wait. Dream. Wander. Use a pencil instead of a pen ( because it's ok to change your mind) and color outside the lines with those big chunky crayons. I don't care and neither should you. It's ok if you get a little lost as long as you're playing the game. Ask questions. Stay engaged. Reach out and touch the world. But, most importantly, don't be afraid to let it touch you.
Number Six
It's funny. When I was creating this website, I copied over some of my more popular posts from a previous blog. One of them was about my lack of patience and it was written last summer. I won't get into the details, but I will use this opportunity to update you on life and hopefully weave some insight into the mix.
For those of you who aren't familiar with my story, I should probably mention the fact that I fractured my hip as a student-athlete at the age of 18 during my freshman year of college. Within the first year I had 3 surgeries to repair the original fracture, a non-union, and a re-fracture. The short version of the story is that I didn't take care of myself very well and I paid the price. Fast forward 8 years and we come to the winter of 2013. I was having a lot of hip pain and started physical therapy. They discovered a labral tear, so I had surgery (number 4) in April. I got about halfway through the rehab when I re-tore the labrum and had another surgery (number 5) in November.
I have an amazing treatment team. My physical therapist and physical therapist assistant are phenomenal. They're the ones who first discovered the labral tear. When it was officially diagnosed, I went on a hardcore quest to find the right surgeon. Arthroscopic surgery to repair labral tears is a relatively new procedure and most surgeons have little-to-no experience with these cases--especially one as unique as mine. I found a highly specialized and experienced surgeon who is well worth the time I spend on the road to see him.
My family travelled to Disney World this April and about a week before we left for Florida, I started to have excruciating hip pain. My orthopedist squeezed me into his schedule and hooked me up with an ultrasound guided cortisone injection (think horse needle into hip joint) to get me through the trip. He then scheduled some tests for when I returned. I think we both knew what was coming.
I hope you're still reading and that I haven't bored you too much because I'm finally getting to my point. You know, the one about patience?
It's been 3 months since that pre-Disney appointment. My orthopedist is a pretty thorough guy. There's a new program for reading CT scans and he wanted to run me through the protocol before making any big decisions. But nothing is ever that easy. It's a new program, which means there were lots of technicalities involving both humans and equipment. So we only just finished up all of the testing last week.
The day before my graduation in May, I told my physical therapist that we had 3 months. 3 months to get my hip back on track. I had a timeline in my mind of how everything would go. This CT protocol kept messing with my timeline. In the moment, each phone call I received that postponed the decision was frustrating. More like enraging, actually. It seemed as though no one was paying any attention to my timeline!!!!
But here's the thing. Usually, within 24 hours, my frustration and rage had diminished and I was able to accept the news. I've even been able to find some good in the "bad" news that continuously screwed with my 3 month timeline.
I've been scheduled for hip surgery number 6 at the end of July. Please note: that's nearly 4 months after I pretty much knew that another surgery would be in my future. If things had gone according to my plan, this would have happened at the beginning of June to allow for optimal healing time. Because that would have been the most convenient and logical thing, of course. But guess what; the world doesn't revolve around me. And, I'm coming to realize, that is not a bad thing.
I've spent more days than I care to admit dwelling on the details and inconveniences of this process. But those days are like drops in the bucket when compared to how I would have handled things even 6 months ago. In my "patience: not my virtue" post from last summer, I ended with a prayer asking God to help me become a person of good temper; for peace in disturbed surroundings. It's a process, but I really do believe God is doing a work in me.
Surgery number 6 will basically just be a hardware removal procedure. I have a lot of metal in my hip and they're finally going to take it all out. Up until now, the surgeons have been reluctant to remove the device. While the procedure isn't as intricate as others have been, it does carry a fair amount of risk. It will take about 6 weeks for the bone to fill in the areas that the hardware has occupied for the last 9 years. Those are some big holes, guys. The risk of fracture is high during the first month and I'm both fragile and accident-prone, which is not a good combination. So I'll be uncharacteristically careful and obedient to the "doctor's orders."
But, as always, I am realistically optimistic.
PS: If this just wasn't enough info for you and you have more questions, please visit the Contact page to send me a quick note. I'm really open about my experience with hip fractures, non-unions, bone grafts, and labral tears. There isn't much information out there about some of these topics and I've had to do a lot of research on my own. I'd love to share what I've learned with others who are muddling through their own journeys!
On The Edge
It seems we're always waiting. Always standing on the edge of something great. We live in quiet expectation for the future. What future? Define greatness. For whom are we waiting?
I don't know whether to call it summer or winter, but I'm definitely in a season. A life season. I'm not being tested, but I am surely being taught. Pruned.
I currently exist in a contemplative and reflective state. For the first time in awhile, I've given myself space to sit and soak. To lay outside and bask in the sunshine. To read. To doodle. To write. To be.
I'm making room. Room for what? Even I don't know that. For change, for growth, for revelation, for a passion to be ignited within.
The hardest part isn't making room, it's keeping myself from trying to fill it. My mind sees a chunk of time and automatically plots to utilize it in the most efficient way possible. But I've learned a secret and I'm going to fill you in.
To best utilize my time--to be efficient and productive and happy all at the same time (yes, this truly is a possible reality)--this season is essential. It's convenient that "my season" falls within an "actual season": summer.
Summer is not typically my favorite. It's uncomfortable. My body does not adjust well to extreme temperatures and the thought of bathing suit shopping still has the potential to put me in a bad mood. You have to shave consistently and make sure your feet are sandal appropriate. There's sweat involved. Summer is a high-maintenance season.
So I guess that makes it fitting. The season I would choose for self-care, reflection, and revitalization would be the season that contains the most work. But it also contains the most sunshine.
Going to bed at a reasonable hour is hard. Waking up early when there's no deadline is harder (even for a morning person).
For months I've been saying I would take this summer to center myself. Find my equilibrium. Bring my life into focus. Establish some perspective.
So why is it that I come here, I rest, I read, I write, I draw, I create...and my world shifts more towards chaos than harmony? My life is thrust into a state of disarray as pieces of my existence are stripped away.
My sister gave me a rose bush for Mother's Day. For a little while, I thought I killed it. It looked pretty dismal. But rose bushes get like that when they need to be pruned. You need to cut away the dead buds and the wilted leaves so that it can grow some more and produce beautiful flowers again. It must be pruned if it hopes to flourish for any period of time.
Please don't get me wrong, here. My life is awesome. I am blessed. But that doesn't mean that things are as they could be. Jesus has more in store. His will is bigger and better than anything I've accepted as sufficient or "just good enough." So he's bringing me back to the basics. He is pruning me so that I can flourish. He's removing all the extra from my life; even the extra I've viewed as lifeblood. He's doing exactly what I asked him to do; he's using this summer to restore me.
Showrooming
Most of you probably have no idea what showrooming is, but the truth is you probably do it several times a week. It's happening more and more and it can be both a good and bad thing. Showrooming is basically using physical stores as a showroom for your purchases. You go to Best Buy, Barnes & Noble, and department stores to see what you like. You try things on, you hold them in your hand, you flip the pages, and you pick the brains of the store employees. You pretty much do everything possible...except buy the product. You're lucky if you even get into your car before you're browsing the internet looking for the best deal.
I get it. I do the same thing. I have a hard time picturing product measurements and colors. Pictures on the internet only show you so much. There's something about seeing with my own eyes and holding with my own hands. But I have to wonder...how long will it be until we no longer have the showrooms to visit? How long until our product questions can only be answered post-purchase by a customer service agent in India? Businesses can't pay rent, stock inventory, or hire employees if they're not moving product.
We're taking advantage of our resources. We use services we aren't paying for because it's convenient, cheap, and "hassle-free." We're taking consumerism to an entirely new level.
Our irresponsibility towards our resources will have consequences. Although not quite as concerning as pollution or world hunger, I am certain that we will experience a loss due to our showrooming tendencies.
We will miss out socially as well. There's something about walking into a book store and interacting with another human. You walk into the store seeking a good read, but you find yourself in conversation about the new best-seller or an all-time favorite. You tell the desperate guy where he can get the most for his used textbook (which...ironically...is online). You get some fresh air and can listen to music during the car ride. You might even walk out with a pile of paper wrapped in fresh binding. And wouldn't that be something?
I recently read a book to my daughter and the inside of it had a letter to the parents:
“The Library of Congress conducted a survey recently that showed that the most important factor in inspiring children to read on their own is not how often the children were read to by their parents—although this is very beneficial and enjoyable—but by how often they saw their parents reading books.”
This rings true on so many levels. Don't get me wrong; I love technology. I like having my textbooks on my iPad so I don't have to carry around 30 pounds of homework on my back. I like having inspiration at my fingertips. I'm writing a blog for Pete's sake. But I also wonder if we're loosing something by our showrooming. I want my daughter to know what a bookstore is. So I compromise. If I have a list of items to purchase, I buy a few in the store and I save a few to find online. Variety is the spice of life.
Oh, and I also think I'll drag out some hard copy novels to read in front of my daughter. I don't want her to think an iPad is the only source of knowledge or entertainment; she's too little to understand that mommy is reading, not watching a movie.
So save the bookstores. Buy a book. Meet some people. Change the world.
Worst Dance Mom Ever
For someone who always used to be on top of it all, this is difficult for me to say:
I am the worst dance mom. Like. Ever.
And it's not in the way you would think. I'm not obsessive, organized, and screaming. I don't have back-up bobby pins or an extra set of tights in my purse.
In fact, I'm the dance mom who:
Forgets to bring a hair tie to put my daughter's hair up every week (hey, now that my hair is short, I have no need to carry one around on my wrist).
Rolls my eyes when the director gets on her soapbox and says how much she loves all the "babies" even though I doubt she knows my daughter's name.
Lets my kid skip the last class before the recital.
Laughs when I'm corrected for calling the production a recital (I'm not even sure how I could make that mistake...it is definitely a production).
Picks up the"production t-shirt" on the way into dress rehearsal instead of...well...wait...when was I supposed to pick it up in the first place?
Tries to get one last week out of a pair of slippers instead of buying a brand new $40 pair for the "production."
She's 4, folks. She's wiggly and happy to be "dancing on the big stage." She likes to put a different color eyeshadow on each eye. She laughs instead of cries when she falls in a dirty rain puddle in her pretty pink tights (this is usually the one that nearly sets me off, though...I try to restrain my true inner dance mom in these moments).
She'd rather be goofy than perfect. I love it.
Sometimes I feel bad that I don't have everything together. Sometimes I wish I was the perfect dance mom who paid the 3rd costume invoice the day I received it (because they've changed the costume accessories several times). Sometimes I wish that I took her to class every week instead of rotating the duty with my mom. Sometimes I wish she followed the instructions and paid more attention. Sometimes I wish that I fit in with the other moms and had the production packet and week-long rehearsal schedule memorized. Sometimes I wish the instructor or director knew my name...my story...what I had to offer and bring to the table.
A few years ago, I would have. I would have been all that and more. I also would have been miserable, which means that Skylar would be miserable. The truth is that I'm okay picking my $20 tickets up on the last day possible. It's much more fun being the one giggling in a row by myself than going over routines in my head and flinching every time my 4-year-old makes a mistake. I'll throw the scuffed shoes in the MOPS bag instead of wrapping them in tissue paper and give my kid a high-five when she strolls off the stage super proud of her performance.
Because she's awesome. I'll be perfectly ok if she doesn't want to dance next year; I'd rather her try out some different things anyway. I want her to decide for herself what she falls in love with. And if, by chance, she does fall in love with dance...I'm already in love with her, so I'm sure it will be grand. We'll make memories together and I'll continue to find new ways of laughing at life.
Impossible.
They said it was impossible.
Jesus knew better, though, and he said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." (Matthew 19:26)
A lot of people in my class didn't even want to walk. They thought a community college graduation was a joke. They couldn't wait to move on to stage 2. And let's face it, I'm excited for the future too.
This isn't what I pictured. 10 years ago I crossed the stage as high school valedictorian. My future was vibrant. I was ambitious. The world was my oyster. This is nothing like what I pictured for myself.
It's even better.
I have never felt more loved. More blessed. More overwhelmed with joy.
Life is precious and the life I have is truly a miracle.
So for some, yesterday was just a lame day of symbolic tradition. But for me, it was rich with meaning. As I walked across the stage and moved my tassel, my heart nearly burst with excitement. I have defied the laws of psychiatry and the reality that had been imposed upon me. By the healing power of Jesus, my hope was restored and my ability to dream has been reignited.
You'll be seeing more of me, folks. Just you wait.